


Arachne's one and only child

by BiggestPranksterGangsterOfAllTime



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid suffers, Mental Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-05-05 15:27:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14621601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiggestPranksterGangsterOfAllTime/pseuds/BiggestPranksterGangsterOfAllTime
Summary: In which Arachne kidnaps Death the Kid and raises him as her own child. He grows up not knowing what he is.Warning for blood, cursing, implied mental/emotional abuse, and general sadnessBased on posts from @Deathstrigger on Tumblr!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Kumo- Japanese word for spider  
> Hiko- Japanese suffix used in names that means prince or boy
> 
> Reviews/comments/criticism is encouraged. Please tell me if I fuck up!

It was the wavelength that awoke her.

A strong, enveloping, pure, utterly innocent wavelength shook every single spider Arachne had split her body into, all the way to her dormant soul. Her soul felt like a pure light, that of an angel's perhaps, had enveloped her very existence. It was a light feeling, but not warm, not like the sun. It was cold. Not the kind of cold that makes you shiver and miserable. No, this was a comforting cold, an invigorating cold, like icy adrenaline that shoots through one in the moment of danger. It was cold like a cool breeze that enveloped your entire skin in its silky embrace.

Her very soul shuddered upon feeling it, and she felt her consciousness suddenly burst back into existence. It was a somewhat strange feeling, having your mind broken up into millions of tiny vessels, vessels that couldn't comprehend the simplest of human, or witch, thoughts. She was fully aware, in some strange way, for the spiders were a hive mind. Culminations of her magic designed to keep her alive. She was still just as intelligent as she had been before she had to shatter herself. She knew what created this wavelength. She had felt just a fraction of what that kind of wavelength could do to her before, and with this incredibly strong wavelength, there was no mistaking where it came from.

It was a baby.

An innocent newborn, the very symbol of life, had come into the world. Of course, a normal baby would not cause this in a million years. This baby was no doubt something special. Something that could never be replaced.

And she wanted it.

* * *

 

A single spider was all she needed, really.

That wasn't to say it wasn't a challenge, of course, to get a spider into the Death room. If anyone knew what or where that wavelength had come from, Death was most certainly that person. Aside from that, the wavelength she felt somehow reminded her of Death. She couldn't exactly put her finger on it, but somehow, Death and this mystery child's wavelength seemed to go hand in hand.

She only had to slip the spider into the pant leg of a very inattentive Death scythe, staying on the back of his shoe as to not to be felt, and discovered. An entire day of patient waiting finally got her where she wanted to be- Lord Death's domain. The magic of a single spider was not enough to disturb the room whatsoever, which was exactly what Arachne planned for.

The man she was currently latched to eventually stopped, and through the static of her vessel, she could faintly distinguish him addressing Lord Death happily.

If she had a human mouth, she would grin at what she heard next.

A baby. A baby cooing contently, without a worry in the world. Her vessel was practically quivering with excitement. This baby was surely something special if it resided in the Death room! She focused all her energy on making out what Death Scythe and Lord Death were saying.

"-happy for you! Again, I'm so sorry about my wife not being able to be here, she's so busy with our own little kiddo!" Death Scythe's voice.

"Oh, yes, thank you! Though I'd say I have plenty of happiness on my own! And don't you worry a bit about that, I understand completely!" Was that Death's voice? It sounded nothing like how she remembered, it was much too high-pitched and peppy. Disregarding the anomaly, she continued to listen.

"So, the big question. Is it a boy or a girl?"

"A boy. He's my brand new little son!"

Son. Death called the baby his son. Of course. There's no way a human baby could make that kind of wavelength, and it didn't. A baby shinigami is what she had sensed. Oh, Arachne was excited. Just knowing a baby created by Lord Death himself was fascinating, nonetheless one that was so close to her. She saboteur the feeling of being so close to the young child's soul.

Her happiness was interrupted by dread.

_'No... This child cannot be allowed to stay in Death's care. Death will surely corrupt the child...make him believe that he is the ultimate order...fill his head with lies and delusions about this world! I cannot let this happen. A child like this will surely inherit more power than I can comprehend...if he is forced into Death's way of thinking, this world will never be okay again.'_

"Can I see him?"

"Of course! Be my guest, be my guest!"

There was a soft chuckle, and Death Scythe again began to move. Looking up, she saw the legs of an intricate, golden crib. Without hesitation, she commanded her vessel to leap from Death scythe to the crib. The vessel scrambled up high, hiding on the bottom side of the small bed.

Death scythe practically squealed. How...embarrassing. "He's so precious! Not quite like my little Maka, but still precious!"

Lord Death simply laughed.

She decided to block them out. These forced pleasantries made her sick.

Night finally fell. All of her spider creeped towards the DWMA, silently swarming the inside of the building. Each one hid in the nooks and crannies of the building, and they inched closer to the doors of the Death room. Death was away on a business something or other, and the opportunity showed itself.

The single spider she had saved crawled to the door, wedging its tiny body between the crack of the door.

The magic seal of the doors was broken by a minuscule degree, but it was just enough for a second spider to crawl into the crevice the first made. It widened the break slightly, allowing a third in. Then a fourth. Then a fifth. And soon, every spider vessel was pushing between the doors, forcing it looser and looser. Finally, the heavy doors opened with a faint crack, and the swarm of arachnids pooled on the floor.

The mass slowly inched over to the unattended crib, so close that Arachne could hear the child's breathing.

Without her soul, she could not take her true form, but for now, she didn't need to. The spiders slowly crawled closer to the baby, each glowing a faint, magical purple.

They enveloped the baby, who didn't even get a chance to cry.

The spiders scuttled back to Arachne's soul, which was waiting in painful anticipation. On the ground in front of the golem in which she resided, the spiders gathered once more, before parting down the middle. They left behind the Death child, who was crying helplessly. The sound was enough to fuel the rest of her determination. Her soul slowly pulled from the golem, her spiders eagerly crawling around it, and attaching. Her magic was low, especially from transporting the child, so all she had energy for was getting back her old body.

After an eternity of waiting, she finally felt herself in flesh and blood once again, and she slowly kneeled in the dirt. The sky was dark, and thunder lowly rumbled from miles and miles away.

Her eyes slowly slid open, and she locked her gaze on the Death child.

She gasped, overwhelmed from the sight of the child, and it's soul. She reached out, slowly pulling the baby into her arms.

"Shhh, shh..." she cooed, rocking the wailing infant. "Do not worry...I've got you now. You're out of that madman's hands, now..." she looked down at the baby, gently touching it's pale cheek. The baby was so tiny, even smaller than a normal human baby. It looked like the smallest thing could harm it.

A faint smile crossed her lips. It was not a warm smile, not one of kindness, or even love.

"Mother's got you now."

* * *

 

The first order of business was to get back to her castle. Mosquito, miraculous as he was, was there shortly after her true form returned. It had just begun to sprinkle, and as she sat in the silence of the limousine ride, she watched the rain pour harder and harder. She wondered why the sky was crying so intensely. Mosquito offered his own jacket to wrap the baby in, which was the best they could do for the time being. He asked no questions during the ride, only daring to speak up when they were safely inside Arachne's castle.

He looked over unsurely, taking off his dark hat. "... Lady Arachne?"

"Yes?" She asked, less than attentive towards him in comparison to the Death child. She stroked his little cheek, and the child shifted. His crying had finally calmed.

"...who is that child, and where did you find it?" He finally asked.

"This is the son of Death himself. This baby's soul awakened me. I could not let him stay in the care of that dictator." They both knew, without saying, that her hatred against Death wasn't her only reason for taking the baby. A shinigami is arguably one of the most powerful beings in existence, after all.

"I see...it's amazing you pulled it off, milady."

She simply hummed in response, walking off without another word to setup a place for the child to sleep. She fashioned a small nest of pillows and blankets on her own bed for now, and placed the infant in the middle.

She knew she couldn't keep him like she had forever. Not even regards to the lack of a proper crib, his soul was freely exposed. Any meister with even decent soul perception would be able to sense such a strong soul. Her own soul was already enveloped with soul protect, but...he was not a witch. He couldn't protect his own soul. She had an idea, but it would take months for her to recover magic to be able to perform it. For now, she focused the last of her energy on giving the child his own soul protect from her own magic.

She felt the energy drain from her body, and she collapsed onto the bed next to the baby. She fell into sleep.

* * *

 

Arachne smiled as her child walked into the dining hall, taking his usual seat at the opposite end of the table as her.

He had grown so much. Yet, he was still short of his age at fifteen, and very thin. He was, quite frankly, tiny. He remained pale as snow, while hair hair grew in as a pitch black, save for the left side of his hair, which had three jarring white stripes. His eyes were a brilliant gold, as if all of the sun's glow had been harnessed into his irises. The underside of his faintly lidded eyes were shadowed. His pale-white lips remained shut in a seemingly permanent blank frown. Despite this, he was quite handsome, and would be considered quite attractive for human standards.

The charm that hung from the ribbon around his neck jingled faintly. The charm had taken her a great amount of magic to create, for it allowed him to keep his soul obscured from prying eyes. The charm was in the shape of a spider, silver and shining, its eight legs extended proudly. She had given it to him only three months after she 'rescued' him, and he'd never taken it off since. Of course, the ribbon had to be extended and adjusted as he grew, but the charm was still close enough during these times to keep his soul looking like a human's.

Of course, she had also finally settled on a name, despite not usually addressing him as such, preferring to call him "child" or "my child". His name was Kumohiko.

"Good morning, my child." She purred. "How did you sleep?"

"I had a bad dream." His voice was low, monotoned.

She gave a look of sympathy. She walked over, wrapping her arms around him. "Oh, my poor darling. Do you want to talk about it?"

He did not shift, by now used to Arachne's constant affection.

"It was about Death. He kept watching me. I saw his mask. It was a skull." He leaned down slowly, his bangs obscuring his shining eyes.

"That damned Death." She mumbled lowly. She lifted up Kumohiko's chin, brushing the bangs out of his eyes. "Don't worry, my child. I'll protect you. I'll never let that Death and his lies take you away."

The rational part of her mind knew that he didn't need her to protect him. Even in early childhood, he had shown unnatural amounts of strength, speed, and skill. Anything she taught him he would pick up immediately, and flawlessly. That included combat. Though she never taught him any sort of fighting herself, leaving that responsibility to Mosquito, she could tell just by the aura he gave off that he was capable of incredible deeds- and incredible amounts of destruction.

She gently pulled away, watching as he fixed his bangs to be even on both sides. That was another strange thing about him. He had the unwavering obsession with balance. More specifically, symmetry. The obsession even exceeded the human Obsessive Compulsive Disorder- it was closer to madness, than anything. Despite this, Kumohiko was sane. Yes, he was perfectly sane, despite his rather twisted views on the world, but Arachne would openly admit that was her joyful doing. He had the rare moment of slipping into insanity, though. Those moments when his lips were plastered with black lines that refused to go away until his mind stabilized were the only times when she truly was afraid.

When he was eleven, he had apparently slipped during his training with Mosquito, and gave himself a rather grotesque cut on his ankle. When she was informed of this, she rushed to find him.

He sat on the floor, facing away from her. He was slightly hunched over, and something about the way he was tensed sent a shiver down Arachne's spine. A normal child would have been crying or screaming, she thought. A normal child would have been calling out for his mother.

He had slowly turned around, and the first thing she saw was the look in his eyes.

A blank, deadly glare, full of utter and unchallenged apathy. His shining eyes were dull, life drained from the pools of gold.

There was a puddle of blood under his legs, but he had only cut one. His blackened fingernails were the next thing her eyes scanned, the skin and nail splattered with red. Finally, her eyes set on the five black stripes that had been set over his mouth down to his chin. They almost made it seem like he had his lips sewn shut in a cartoonish fashion.

She had pried him away from his own hands, staring in fascination at his ankles. He had mutilated them with his sharp nails, yes, but they were perfectly mirrored. A beautiful horror. Even the bloodstains seemed to be organized. She couldn't help but run a million theories through her brain, the possibilities of what he could do in his fit of madness overcoming his care.

Eventually, she did patch him up with a soft kiss to each injuries, and she told him to not hurt himself again, and to save that destructive need for the shinigami.

"There will be a day where you will be strong enough to face him. Strong enough to erase him. And when that day comes, I will be there to see you shape the world into whatever you desire."

He had his eyes hidden by his bangs at that moment, but when he did lift his head and reveal his eyes, it send another prick of fear through her chest.

"I don't want to shape the world...I want to erase it.”

Arachne had smiled when he said that. "If you want the world to cease existing...then I will be there to see it be erased, too."

Arachne had then sent him to bed, and when he awoke, he had recovered from his insanity, and finally cried. Whether it was from his injuries, or the trauma of being just a child and forced into madness, she'd never know.

She pet Kumohiko's hair, watching him stare down at his food. "And if that Death ever appears in your mind again, just come to me. I'll chase him away, and one day, we will both make sure he never comes back. Now, back to breakfast."

Kumohiko slowly nodded.

* * *

 

Kumohiko was turning sixteen. It was time for him to finally begin his shift into a true secret weapon, a tool of mass destruction. It was time for him to participate in his first fight.

It was time for him to begin his path onto becoming a Kishin.

Loew Village had been decimated. It was where Arachne had initially planned to send Kumohiko on his first real fight, but her scout spiders found it all torn to shreds. It had been perfect too, a village she had come to know well in her time inside that golem. From what she could gather, Giriko had been the one to destroy it, for everything was chopped brutal through, or just plain torn apart. It had to have been this way for quite a while, judging by the wear and rotting of the corpses of the previous townspeople. Her best guess was that Giriko couldn't hold back his murderous rage any longer. How typical of him.

She instead settled for a village several miles away from Loew Village, a small, rather plain establishment. Despite the small size, it was still significant enough to present a challenger from the DWMA's if something happened to it.

Arachne knocked thrice on Kumohiko's door, entering. She found him sitting on the bare floor, scribbling away on a piece of paper. His walls were covered in similar sketches. She noticed that he was drawing peering eyes again. He didn't like the peering eyes, but he didn't seem to calm down until he had properly vented through art. The drawings were amazingly symmetrical, especially for a freehand drawing. She tried to ignore the drawing, discarding the thought that they were all staring at her.

"Kumohiko." She called. "Come here."

He obeyed the command immediately, standing in front of her with his head bowed respectfully. She tilted up his chin.

"It is your birthday. You know this, right?"

"Yes, mother." His voice was a bit robotic, but she couldn't blame him. He had repeated the phrase countless times.

"I have decided...that you may finally begin to exert your potential. You will finally start to become a Kishin."

His eyes widened, just a bit. "I will...be killing humans?"

"Yes." She smiled warmly, though there was a hint of malice in her grin. "Isn't that wonderful? You will be able to fight with someone besides dear Mosquito."

He looked aside, pursing his lips. "I never really was fond of him." He admitted.

"I am aware. But this will be a new experience for you, and I have much faith you will do well. Now...we shall prepare briefly, then send you on your way." She leaned down to the small shinigami, placing a kiss on his forehead. "You will not disappoint me."

* * *

 

Maka Albarn and Soul Eater were pulled out of class early, much to their confusion. They had only been told, "Lord Death has a mission for you,". Maka strode down the halls nonetheless.

"Usually he waits until class is over to give us an assignment..." she mumbled.

Soul shrugged dismissively. "It's probably just sudden. I wouldn't worry. Y'know, it's not cool at all to worry about nothing."

Maka sighed. "You're right."

Eventually they reached the room, stepping forward to the main platform. The skies of the Death room were gray as usual.

Death's form slowly turned. "Heya, kiddos." His voice was happy, but in such a forced tone, it was more saddening than if his voice was just full of sorrow. "I'm glad you could make it! I have some very bad news, but I also have an assignment for you." He turned around fully.

"What is it, Lord Death?"

"A very distressed villager came to the DWMA not too long ago, and he told me that his entire town except for him had been wiped out. We suspect it could be a Kishin, but we're not too sure! Since you two are at the top of your class, I thought you'd be the best fit."

Both looked at each other a bit unsurely.

"Don't worry, i'll have backup in case something goes wrong!"

They finally both looked back over to Lord Death, nodding.

"We'll do our best!"

Directions were given to the village, and Maka prompted Soul to take them there as fast as he could on his motorcycle.

"Jeez, what's the rush? It's not like we can save any villagers..." he deflated slightly upon his own statement.

"Maybe, but we don't want the Kishin leaving before we can catch it! C'mon, we gotta go." She stared at him, her serious expression cracking him.

"Okay, okay...you win."

With that, they both got onto his motorcycle, not even bothering with helmets as usual, and speeding off. The ride was long and tense, and the tension only increased upon reaching the village.

Blood was everywhere. The gravel ground was covered in it, along with stray organs, and mutilated corpses. The souls of the humans who had been slain hung in the air, reminding everyone who saw that a life that was just as full as anyone else's had been taken.

They both wondered the village slowly, keeping their eyes peeled for any signs of life, or of danger.

Soul suddenly shot his arm out, Maka running into it with a soft grunt. She looked up questioningly. "Maka, I see something."

"What is it?"

Instead of answering, he simply pointed straight ahead.

A single person, a small boy, stood in the middle of the bloodied streets. He was turned away, head bowed. He was also drenched with blood.

After a quick glance to Soul, Maka slowly tried approaching him. "Hey...um...kid...? Are you okay? You don't have to worry, we're students from the DWMA.." she reached out to touch the boy's shoulder, but stopped. Something wasn't right.

He wasn't dressed like a rural villager would be. He had a formal suit on, colored a dark purple, with what looked like spider webs spinning outwards from the middle of his jacket in black. His pants were a dull, dark gray, and she noticed the back of a collar, or perhaps choker.

Soul grabbed her shoulder suddenly, yanking her away just as the boy turned his head around. His eyes were piercing yellow, his face splattered with blood. His expression was apathetic, but it was obvious that he wasn't a victim here.

Soul transformed, falling into Maka's grip.

Kid stared at the pair, finally deciding to turn around. He examined them closely, a bit curious about how that boy had suddenly become a weapon. Mother had told him about demon weapons before, but he had no idea they were this...tangible. And...DWMA?

"Who are you?" The girl with green eyes was staring at him angrily.

"What is the DWMA? What does it stand for?" He took a step forward, eyes focusing on the pair.

"Answer my question. Who are you? What did you do?" Her eyes bore into his very soul, though he could tell she didn't see much.

"What is the DWMA?" He repeated, voice raising just a bit.

The girl snarled. "It's the Death Weapon Meister Academy. It was created by Lord Death to protect humanity. Now, answer me."

"Lord Death sent you?" The boy cocked his head slowly, before seeming to realize something and straightening his neck. "Kumohiko. My name is Kumohiko. As for what I did..." He brought his hands up, intertwining his fingers with each other. "I just did as I was told. And I was told to kill on sight. And now that you're here-" he looked up, dropping his hands to his sides. "I'm going to fight you."

The girl's grip tightened on her weapon, and with a yell of fury, she ran forward, swinging the blade directly at his neck.

His body shot back, backbending out of the range of the blade with a single step backward. He dodged the second vertical swing, then the third. She then went for a horizontal swipe, and he brought his arm up in less than a second's notice.

The blade lodged in his arm, stopping at his bone. He didn't even flinch at the pain. He met the girl's eyes again. "Attacks like that won't do much." He mused casually. He shot forward, forming his opposite hand in the shape of a spade, thrusting it forward. He felt it go through flesh and muscle. His hand felt warm, even more so when she started to bleed.

"MAKA!" Her weapon cried out.

He kicked the girl away, jumping on top of her. He placed one foot on her neck, her gloved hands immediately shooting up to try to rip him off. He could feel the dull ache of his arm growing back together.

"...only four attacks, and I defeated you?" The boy almost seemed to pout, tilting his head away. "...that's disappointing. I really thought that you-"

Kumohiko's voice was halted, replaced by a strangled cry of pain. He looked down, seeing two long, red and black curved blades disappearing into his torso. The blades were attached to the albino boy from earlier. Kumohiko's shocked expression morphed into one of apathy as a single streak of blood dribbled from his mouth.

"Stay off of my meister." The red-eyed boy growled.

The dark, disturbed boy simply sighed lowly, lurching his body forward, his body making disgusting tearing and squelching sounds.

"Don't you see..? As long as you're stabbing me-" he grabbed a fistful of white hair. "You have nowhere to go." He ripped with all of his might, lifting his knee to meet Soul's face. He cried out in pain, blood bursting into Kumohiko's knee. He yanked his head back again, and slammed it forward, over and over, until he stopped moving. With a final tug, the blades from his arms shattered into thin air, and his body hit the ground, leaving Kumohiko with chunks of hair caught in his fist. His face was bloody, nose crooked at an odd angle.

The girl cried out in distress, trying to get up, which only caused more pain. Kumo stumbled, holding his stomach. He noticed a hint of sickly pink and red sticking out from one of his wounds. He tsked, spitting blood onto the gravel below.

"That was a good move...I don't think you know, though..." he grabbed Maka's ponytails, yanking in opposite directions. He got very close to her face, voice lowering. "I'm special...wounds like that won't kill me. Nothing will kill me. Not you, not your Lord Death. But I can kill you.”

The girl looked absolutely mortified. Kumo remedied that by pulling his head back far, and slamming their foeheads together at full force. In an instant, Maka was on the ground, unconscious and bloody.

Kumo shook off the mild pain it had caused him. He hissed instead at the pain of his body trying to repair itself, more slow than normal. He held his stomach, stumbling away from the two.

He left the village without a second thought, a bit of blood trailing behind him.

* * *

 

“Mother,” Kumo panted, leaning against the doorway of Baba Yaga castle. “I'm back, I defeated a warrior and her weapon.” Despite everything that had happened, his voice still was void of emotion.

Arachne looked up, and upon seeing Kumo’s disheveled state, she ran up to him, pulling him into her arms. “I know, darling. I saw everything. But those monsters hurt you.” Now that he couldn't see her face, she let the look of disappointment she had been stifling show. Pulling away and again looking worried, she brushed her fingertips over the torn fabric on his stomach. “Let me see, I will heal you, my dearest.”

The shirt was gently opened, each button undone with precision. She was a bit surprised to see that there was no wound. She was aware he had fast healing, yes, but she didn't think he would recover this quickly. A part of her wanted to test out how much he could heal from…

“I didn't fight as well as I could have. I am sorry.” He bows his head, his mouth shutting tightly.

“Oh,” she cooed, “no. I don't expect a perfect battle. You still won, and now...they know just how dangerous you are. ...how dangerous you’ll be.”

He looked up, expression only showing slight bemusement.

“I've told you how special you are. How you're different. How your birth parent cast you aside just because you were different. But now… I feel you should know why you're different. But first, I want to know…” her voice lowered. “how do you feel about the reaper?”

Kid’s expression darkened, and Arachne felt just a touch of fear at the intimidating glare. “The reaper? I'm not fond of him...he repressed you, us, so we have to hide away. He trains children to become sick murderers and sends them to their deaths. He's cluttered this world with filth he claims is order...he deserves to be erased.”

Arachne smiled in satisfaction. Well, fifteen years of conditioning did have an effect on even the most strong-willed. “That's good. Don't you let anything change your mind...not even me. I need to tell you what you are.”

“What do you mean? Am I...a witch, like you?”

“No, I'm afraid. You're something so much more powerful...so much more...horrible. My sweet son…” she cupped his cheeks firmly. “You are a reaper. When you were just a baby, I took you in when Lord Death rejected you. You're one of the most powerful beings on earth...you're a young god.”

Kumo’s golden eyes widened slightly, pupils contracting.

“I know this is hard to take in, but...you know what this means.”

Kumo slowly looked down at the floor, eyes still wide. His thin form began to tremble.

“Don't cry, it's okay-” she cut herself to see that he wasn't crying.

He was smiling.

He held his hands over his wide smile, shaking with excitement. His lips had almost instantly became plastered with the five black lines of his insanity.

Arachne felt another sinking feeling of fear, overtaking the fondness that had inevitably grown. Despite his small and delicate appearance, Kumohiko was...terrifying.

“A god,” he breathed, voice a bit higher pitched. “Only a god…” he looked up, thin smile staying plastered on his lips. “Can kill a god.”


	2. Poison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kumohiko goes on a field trip and Arachne is still the worst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter, and I know the update delay was large, but I think shorter chapters will help me post more often a lot. So yeah. Enjoy. Comments/criticism are greatly appreciated   
> ((PLEASE tell me if you find spelling/grammar mistakes))

Arachne stepped up behind her son, squeezing his shoulders gently. "I think that this is long overdue, is it not?"

He nodded slowly in agreement, eyes locked on the bright stone room lined wall to wall with weapons of every shape, caliber, type, and size.

"Remember, you should not choose the weapon. The weapon and you must become one. It must become as easy to use in battle as magic would be for a witch." She slowly wrapped her arms over his shoulders, resting her hands on his chest. "We will try every single one if we must."

Kumohiko slowly let his dulled eyes lower. "I understand, mother."

She unwrapped her arms from him slowly. "Go on, then, dearest."  
  
He stepped forward, trailing to the left wall and slowly running his fingers along the rock until he reached the first rack of weapons. It held a variety of sizes of Katana.

He carefully pulled one from the rack "I suppose it's best to begin with the most traditional choice, is it not?"

Arachne smiles fondly. "I suppose it is."

She watched him feel how the weapon felt in his hands, practice maneuvers, practice using it. And the same for the next weapon. And the next, and the next until almost all of them had been wielded by him. He had almost instantly mastered every single one. He picked up each weapon and used it as if he had practiced with it all of his life. Arachne felt pride swell in her soul at seeing how truly talented he was becoming.

"I do feel more partial to the weapons that require both hands..." he curiously spun twin sickles in his palms, watching the weapon distort into a ring of blurry blades and handles. "It's much more balanced."

"Perhaps we should focus on twin weapons for a while, hm?" The spider witch suggested, gracefully stepping over to Kumohiko.

"Yes."

"We can't afford for anything to go wrong...or, world forbid, you get defeated." She curled a lock from his bangs between her fingers. "Do you understand? No matter what, even if you fail...you must not be captured by Lord death. You don't want to end up like your older brother, do you?"

He froze, features tightening for a moment. "No." He finally answered. "He and Lord death are disgusting failures. I will not be like them."

Arachne smiled, more in a sickly way than in a kind way a proud mother would. She leaned down and pecked his forehead. "Good. A fate like Asura's would be..." she paused, as if to find a particular world. "Sickening."

* * *

 

"Kumohiko, look at me."

The 11-year old boy slowly looked up to meet Arachne's winding eyes.

"There's something I must inform you of. It's why you cannot go against Lord Death. Not yet. Not for a long time."

"What-"

"I can see the desire in you to seek him out, kill him. But you cannot. Kishin eggs and witches have been slaughtered by him and his petty minions for centuries. But none of them have ever posed a threat to his life. Only one has. Do you know what Lord death did to him?"

The boy slowly shook his head.

"He ripped off his skin, drained all of his blood and locked him away in a bag of his own flesh."

She noticed the boy's body stiffen, and pupils contract despite the dim light within his room.

"His name was Asura. Lord death created him from a part of his own soul to rid himself of fear. He created a being with the weight of a god's fear, and nothing else. He was Lord Death's own son, and he used him selfishly, to make himself stronger, at the cost of Asura's sanity. And worst of all, he expected Asura to become a filthy reaper like him. But he did not. He fell into madness, and who could blame him? The weight of all the fear in the world could consume anyone. So he stood against Lord death. He wanted to recreate the world into his own image, a picture of madness. A world like that was still better than this mindless, suffocating order that Lord death forces on all creatures.

"You cannot become like him. He failed. He let himself be overpowered and now he's nothing but dry bones trapped in flesh. Lord death doomed his own son from the moment of birth, then tortured him, and trapped him away. Forever." Kumohiko's head fell down, hanging low, bangs obscuring his face. Arachne curled her fingers under his chin and tilted it up. Their eyes met again, and he looked on the verge of tears.

"Now you see why I will not let you go. He wouldn't hesitate to do the same to you, or worse. I couldn't imagine what I would do if that happened to you." They stared for a while. Kumohiko seemed like he was trying to speak, but no words could arise. "You're going to become strong, my dear...stronger than the reaper. Then you can banish him away with Asura, and those pathetic reapers can rot away, and then the world will finally be fixed. You're going to reshape the world one day."

"...I don't want to be like Asura. I don't want to have my skin ripped off..." he voice cracked, tears welling up in his eyes.

"You won't. You won't as long as you do as I say...and if you do as I say...you'll become strong. Stronger than anyone. You want that, don't you?"

Kumohiko sat in silence for a full minute, before locking eyes with the witch one more time. "...yes. I do."

* * *

 

Mosquito swung his crude staff full force down towards Kumohiko. Without an ounce of concern, he snapped his forearm to block it, the staff stopping in its tracks. His free hand shot forward, a blade slicing off a bit of hair, causing Mosquito to stare wide-eyed at the blade for a second too long. He was thrown onto the floor by a powerful kick, and a blade was pressed against his neck.

Arachne clapped softly, smile lacing her lips. "Very well done, my dearest. I do believe we have found a very good candidate for your weapon."

The boy pulled his arm away, letting the two blades retract back against his forearm into the thick cover around the entire front of his arm. He admired the perfectly symmetrical designs etched into the leather and carved into the protective metal plating. His arms were lifted by Arachne gently.

"The metal protects your arms and provided defense...retractable blades are always useful...it's tight and can easily be hidden with sleeves...what do you think? Is bladed half-gauntlet what you need?"

"I think...this is perfect." His voice was low, satisfied.

"That's very good." She cupped his cheek, smiling proudly. "I am very happy we've found the perfect weapon for you."

Mosquito rose with a grumble, soon getting back into a more formal stance. "Should I finish the preparations, my Lady?"

"Yes. Bring the finished products to me when you're done." Mosquito bowed his head, turning on his heel and leaving the weapons hall.

Arachne stroked Kumohiko's cheek with her thumb very lightly. "This time tomorrow, you'll have planted your venom in the reaper's bloodstream. I'm sure you're excited."

"Very." A familiar creepy smile came to his lips. "I look forward to finally visiting."

"I look forward to your arrival."

* * *

 

Green eyes behind polished glasses scanned the grand shape of the DWMA. Every detail was taken into account, no part left unnoticed.

' _It is a beautiful building....It's a shame it has to be part of such filth.'_

He was surprised when a light voice piped up from right next to him.

"It is pretty amazing, right?"

The boy slowly turned his head, awkwardly staring into forest green eyes.

Maka grinned contently. "Sorry, did I startle you?"

The boy shook his head. "No, it's alright."

"Are you a tourist?"

"No, actually..." his eyes lingered on the dark bruising on her forehead, just barely covered by dull bangs. "I'm here to become a student of the DWMA. I intend to become a miester."

"That's great! We always need new recruits." She jumped onto the first few steps of the massive staircase. "I'll see you around, okay?" She stopped, looking back briefly. "By the way, I'm Maka Albarn." She then kept forward, easily sprinting up the steps until the boy lost sight of her.

He adjusted his ivory scarf, feeling his choker shift underneath it. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his loose Death City hoodie he had grabbed from a cheap gift shop. "...what a naive fool." Without a second glance upward, he made the journey up the stairs.

He couldn't just go to the DWMA looking like how he did normally. Even if that weapon and meister pair weren't a factor, his appearance alone would be suspicious, especially his hair. He wasn't exactly thrilled he had to wear a scarf and a beanie in the middle of a desert city, but he had little other choice to cover his hair and his choker. Colored contacts and fake glasses were easy enough to get, though the contacts were expectedly less than comfortable. Easier still to acquire was his clothes. A simple white tank top, a death city hoodie for insurance he didn't seem too out of place, and simple dark blue jeans with white converse was enough to arise no suspicion from any townsfolk so far. He particularly hated the damn hoodie. It was a digesting shade of gray, it was hot, and it had this miserable city proudly plastered on the front for all to see. The only good thing it did was hide his weapons, so he figured he'd suffer through wearing it for a while.

He pushed through the front doors, a bit surprised at how lively it was. They all looked so damn happy. It made him sick.

Requesting entry to the school was incredibly easy, especially since Lord death seemed more than eager to take in new students. A few forged athletic achievements from a school that don't exist, and enrollment was all but guaranteed. Lord Death hasn't even realized how big of a mistake he's made. Kumohiko was the venom of a spider, and Lord Death had just allowed him to inject himself within his very blood- the DWMA.

He couldn't help but smile softly. This was going to be truly easy.

Staying unnoticed in classes was easy enough, all he had to do was the pointless assignment the teacher gave and not speak. The only real challenge was purposely delaying choosing a weapon partner. He truly didn't get along too well with any of the options- though if he absolutely had to get a partner, he would figure something out. It wouldn't be hard to emotionally manipulate a human.

"Well, aren't you going?"

Kumohiko jumped when he heard his teacher's voice snap him out of his thoughts. He looked down at the stitched face of his teacher behind his desk.

"Class ended a minute ago."

"...of course." He quickly stood, walking down the lecture hall seats' stairs and making for the door.

"Wait one moment. You're new here, and you didn't seem particularly interested in my class today. Let's have a chat, hm?"

Kumohiko internally screamed at this man in his head, slowly approaching his desk. Of all his teachers, at least this one was interesting. The screw in his head alone was fascinating.

"You're a strange one, aren't you?" He casually leaned forward crossed-armed onto his desk. "I can barely see anything from your soul at all."

"You...can see my soul...?" He slowly asked.

"Yes. Easily. Normally seeing the traits of souls is just as easy, but for you...it's as if there's a fog around your soul, keeping me from seeing what I want to see. It's interesting, really."

Kumohiko said nothing.

"What is your name, again?"

He tenses ever so slightly, quickly regaining composure. "It may seem a bit silly, but I prefer to go by...Kid. Kid ishlüge. I come from a foreign family, not from around here."

He mentally cursed himself for picking such a simple, stupid name. It seemed like a simple name would work at the time.

"I see...you're a bit of a blank slate, aren't you, Kid? Though your soul is blank, I can sense you don't want to be here all that much. So I must ask, why be here?"

"....I'm sorry, but you must be wrong, professor. I am very excited to be here. I've been searching for new opportunities, and this school has more than I can count. It's very exciting." He smiled.

"I suppose so. Go on, get where you're going."

He nodded, stepping out of the classroom. His grin widened a bit. "Perfect opportunities, in fact..." he mumbled to himself, chuckling quietly in amusement.

**Author's Note:**

> Kumohiko- Spider prince
> 
> So yeah. Arachne sucks. Don't know if I'll continue this, but if I do, it won't be horribly soon. Hope you enjoyed!


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